Code Geass Megiddo: Word Dramas
by Wing Zero Alpha
Summary: To every saga, there are always portions that remain apart from the center, which can only be found when one looks hard enough. These are the untold stories of Code Geass Megiddo...
1. Word Drama 01

**Word Drama 01**

**Tokyo Settlement, Japan  
September 14, 2017 a.t.b.**

It was as though the great star Wormwood had fallen as proclaimed within the Christian Bible. The land was covered in complete darkness, as the rays of the sun failed to shine down upon the city. The sky was covered in a gray-black cloud that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see, while buildings and towers lay in ruin along the cracked and fragmented streets. The scents of fire, smoke, oil, iron and others unidentifiable intermingled together as one, as though to make sure even the blind or deaf could not escape the dread that had taken hold of the entire nation. And in place of the deafening booms that had occurred only a day earlier, the sounds of sirens, VTOL engines and cries of people were now all that could be heard.

For Viletta Nu, the whole scene threatened to overwhelm and consume her, but she held it back by sheer force of will and by focusing on her present priority: aiding in the rescue of any survivors that could be found. Alongside several rescue workers, ranging from Japanese to Britannians, Black Knight and former Imperial Army, she had frantically dug through the debris, struggling to find any signs of life and bring them to safety. Her latest rescue had been a Japanese mother and her young child, a little girl no older than five, who had been trapped under the remains of their apartment building for over twenty four hours. Viletta and her fellow rescue workers had managed to get both out, but much to her horror, she found that the child was not breathing.

The next thing Viletta realized, she was attempting cardiopulmonary resuscitation upon the girl. Through her military training alone, she continued to breath into the child's mouth before pushing her hands as hard as she could upon the child's chest, being conscious enough not to cause injury, but keeping up the rapid pace. She had lost all track of time at that point, as she was too frantically focused on trying to see the child draw air, but no matter how many times she pushed and breathed into her, the girl did not draw breath. And as Viletta continued on and on, she found herself silently praying to God, or anyone that was listening, repeating the same phrase over and over: _"Don't let her die! Don't let her die!"_

"That's enough! Viletta, you did enough!" she heard someone yell from behind her, snapping her from her concentration. A moment later, she felt the strong arms of Yoshitaka Minami, one of the Black Knights that she had become "acquainted" with during the past few hours, wrap around her and forcibly drag her away from the girl's body.

"Let me go!" Viletta cried out, struggling in vain against the hold while two others came to take the girl's body. "I can still save her! I can save her, damn you!"

"It's too late! She's dead!" Minami yelled over her, just as the two other men covered the girl's body with a blanket and slowly lifted her limp form upon a nearby stretcher.

It was a familiar scene, one she had witnessed many times in her career as a soldier for the Crown. Yet seeing it here, those simple actions carried a grim, incontestable finality that at last served to halt Viletta's struggle as it instantly drained the strength from her limbs. At that Minami finally let go of her, and Viletta found herself dropping to her knees, tears streaming down her face involuntarily as the stretcher and the two other workers disappeared from her sight. She tried to stand up again, telling herself that there were still others out there that needed to be saved, others that were depending on her along with everyone else, but no matter how much she sent the commands to her legs, they refused to budge, as if they were weighted down. Instead, Viletta could only stare off into the distance, trying to comprehend the scope of the destruction that had occurred the day before, as her tears came down more and more vehemently.

_How… how could this have happened…?_ her mind let out, as she saw another body be covered by a blanket. _How could anyone have done this…? How could… I…?_

"Was this… what… what I wanted…?" she murmured under her breath. It didn't make sense to her, no matter how much she tried to wrap her mind around it. She had been a Britannian soldier, as well as a member of the Purist Faction. She had seen and even taken part in the extermination of many Elevens in the past. She hated them for being subhuman, for being inferior to Britannians and for existing when the world had no need for them. But above all else, she hated the Japanese for the fact they were just like Britannians in their desire for power and domination, yet continually feigned innocence and claimed to be "above such barbarisms".

Though even Viletta admitted that Britannia had been excessively cruel to Japan, even when compared to other Areas, she had believed they rightfully deserved such treatment. Ever since Marco Polo made that fated trip to the east and discovered Japan was rich with sakuradite, the Japanese played upon the worldwide demand for it. Throughout history Japan had incited bidding wars between nations for this resource, playing one against the other like two animals fighting over a piece of meat, all the while using the strife and chaos for its own betterment. The nation had also been known to achieve economic dominance over its trading partners, usually to subvert them under Japan's will while continually distracting the prey with the sakuradite at the end of the rope. The Japanese people had no qualms about any of it themselves, as they were xenophobic even by Britannian standards. Thus, when Japan attempted these practices again during the Oriental Incident, it was only by divine justice that Britannia chose not to submit itself to Japan's will, and instead made the little country pay for its vindictiveness and continual self-obsession by conquering it in little over a month.

For all intents and purposes, she should have been celebrating the destruction at hand.

But she didn't. Instead she cried out, feeling only disgust in her heart at the idea just a day ago, she was just like the people that had caused this devastation to occur. Just a day ago, she hated the Elevens and held staunch pride in being Britannian, the masters of the human race. Just a day ago, she had shot her former lover, a good man named Kaname Ohgi, for a multitude of reasons but above them all, just for the fact that he was _one of them_.

Just a day ago, she had been a monster. But today, she had learned the truth, and for that she only felt hatred for herself now.

"We've got something!" Viletta almost didn't hear the voice yell out. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw several workers unearth the remains of a _Sutherland_, which had ended up having an entire wall collapse upon it. Despite the fact that the _Sutherland_ itself was in bad shape, its cockpit block miraculously remained undamaged.

With newfound energy, Viletta rushed over to the scene, where the workers were now trying to open up the block with a drill. Acting quickly, she moved them out of the way and uncovered a panel upon the side of the cockpit. This was the emergency release panel, which was meant precisely to open the cockpit up after it had been ejected or if the frame itself had been critically damaged. Viletta quickly slammed her fist against the panel, and a moment later, the cockpit hatch opened up and the command chair extended outward with its pilot in tow.

"She's alive!" someone realized as the pilot, a young red-haired girl dressed in a standard blue Britannian pilot suit, began to cough and try to stand up.

"That's it…!" Viletta said as she and a few others lifted the pilot up and moved her to a nearby stretcher. "What's your name? Your name…!"

"Wa…" the pilot murmured while her eyes fluttered dazedly. "Warrant Officer Charmelle Finlay… Electron Battalion Bravo Company… Service Number Seven-Eight-Two…"

"She'll be alright, get her out of here." Viletta commanded the men next to her.

"Not so fast." someone called out, followed by the distinctive sound of an electron battery activating. Everyone turned to see as one of the workers, who was wearing the charred remains of a Black Knights uniform, drew the pistol out and took aim toward the still dazed_ Sutherland_ pilot.

Reacting fast and to the amazement of those present, Viletta threw herself between Charmelle and the Black Knight soldier.

"Get out of the way Britannian, or I'll shoot you along with her!" the Black Knight warned with venom, looking more ready to shoot than to listen to reason.

Viletta only glared back. "Killing her will not bring back those that have been lost, and more people will keep dying the longer you point that gun here. So either shoot me now, or put the gun down and get back to work."

"Tamaki!" Minami called out to the soldier while rushing over. "Do as she says and put the gun down!"

"Why!" Tamaki stated back to Minami. "This is the bitch that shot Ohgi, and who knows how many of ours the one behind her killed! I say we kill them right here and now!"

Viletta visibly grimaced at the memory of her shooting Ohgi, as though somebody were rubbing salt into an open wound, but she remained where she stood. "I already told you people, you can kill me at anytime you wish. But please, spare this girl; she's as much of a victim as anyone else here!"

"To hell with that!" Tamaki roared and brought the gun up again. "It's because of you Britannians that things are like this! So shut up and die already!"

Seeing that her time was up, Viletta decided to just let it come to pass and closed her eyes, waiting for the bullet to pierce her. Before that could happen however, Minami closed the distance and grabbed the gun from Tamaki's hand. "What the hell Minami!"

"Ohgi wouldn't have wanted you to shoot. Nor would Zero." Minami stated.

"But she's _one of them_!" Tamaki roared with fury.

So concentrated was he on his friend that Tamaki didn't see Viletta's eyes widen in shock from hearing those three words. The same three words that she had used so much to describe the Japanese now turned on her with the same vehemence. She had to fight hard to keep herself composed after that.

"There's been enough killing already Tamaki." Minami replied, looking the other Black Knight straight in the eye. "Don't add onto it."

Growling in anger, Tamaki stormed away to parts unknown, not that anyone cared. When the moment passed, Viletta looked back to Minami and nodded a 'thank you' to him, and despite his own dispositions, he nodded back to her. "Get her to an aid station and hurry back! We've got more that need help!"

Replying only by action, the other workers began moving Charmelle to the nearest aid station. After they left, Minami took one last look at Viletta and moved away himself.

With a brief moment to herself, Viletta reached her arm down and brushed her hand against her pistol, the same one that she had used on Ohgi. Her eyes narrowed as she felt its roughness, before closing once again. _There will be a day when proper justice will be done. But before that, I have to live for now and help save anyone else that survived…_

* * *

**Author's Notes:** For those who don't know it, this transcript takes place in the universe of Code Geass Megiddo, my main CG story. As the name suggests, it's to Megiddo what the Picture Dramas are to the canon series; with that in mind, I will be putting out more of these as my main story goes on, centered especially around the five year gap that takes place between the end of the first series and the beginning of my series. As always, reviews are welcome and encouraged.


	2. Word Drama 02

**Word Drama 02**

**Britannian air cruiser **_**Avalon  
**_**Pacific Ocean**  
**September 15, 2017 a.t.b.**

It had all been for nothing.

That simple line of words ran through Suzaku's mind like a continuous stream of water or music player set on repeat. No matter what he did, no matter how he moved his body, no matter what position he aligned himself into, he could not get that phrase out of his head. Nor could he hold back the tears that streamed down his face or the shame that he felt in his heart. The words only continued to repeat themselves over and over.

It had been two days now since Japan's complete destruction, two days since everything Suzaku had come to cherish went up in a mixture of smoke and fire. The reports were still coming in, but the last Suzaku had heard there were no survivors; every Japanese and Britannian that had been left behind was thought to have perished in the devastation. Only those that had been evacuated to the _Avalon_ during the crisis, such as Second Princess Cornelia li Britannia, her knight Gilbert G.P. Guilford, and the majority of the Ashford Academy student body were the only remainder of what had been Area 11, the once proud nation of Japan.

For an eternity, Suzaku's mind continued to reel as everything he had endeavored and worked for over the last seven years had now been undone with the death of his homeland. His father's murder was now meaningless. His choice to join the Britannian military to change the system from within no longer had any reason to it. The valiant acts he had performed under the service of Third Princess Euphemia li Britannia, as well as the vision he had shared with her, were all now equivalent to ash just like the islands themselves.

The horror he felt when he had plunged his knife into his father's chest. The shame he had gained when he had chosen to wear a Britannian uniform and bear the sigil of the Empire as a slave. The pain he had accumulated from being looked upon as a lowly servant by his masters and a traitor by his own kind. The endless strain his body had endured from throwing his life on the line over and over again. All meaningless and all wasted.

All that remained was the eternal hatred he felt for the one who caused it all out of his own selfish desires, the one who he had called a mistake and claimed should have never existed: his former friend turned enemy Lelouch vi Britannia, the one and only Zero.

And so, for the last two days, Suzaku had secluded himself to the relative comfort of his personal quarters aboard the _Avalon_, only opening the door for whatever meal Cecile came to give him. In those days, Suzaku did not sleep, only ate the barest amounts of nourishment, did not move far away from his bed nor did he allow any light into his domain. He was subconsciously punishing himself and was fully aware of it, throwing himself into a makeshift solitary confinement for his failure to stop his former friend, for his trusting him to take Euphie's hand when he should have struck him down where he stood. No matter what he did, he could not shake off the following question: what would have happened if Suzaku had all but done what was needed at the time?

"Lelouch…" Suzaku snarled with hatred as he twisted and turned in his bed. "It's all because of you, you and your selfishness…" he continued to murmur. "…I should have killed you… It should have been you…!"

"If only it had been you…!" Suzaku continued to bellow. "If only it had been you, none of this would…!"

"So this is what has become of the great Suzaku Kururugi." a voice spoke out from the darkness. "From traitor and murderer to pathetic whiner and weakling. Pride of His Imperial Majesty's Armed Forces and Princess Euphemia indeed."

"Who's there!?" Suzaku barked as he arched up from his bed, his rage now directed to the one who dared enter into his private space without permission to mock him. It barely registered with him that he had not heard the door open or sensed another presence in the room until now.

The voice emitted a nasty chuckle. "Someone you know _very_ well, my son." the voice stated just as its bearer exited from the darkness and into Suzaku's view.

In an instant, Suzaku's rage was replaced with horror at what his eyes saw before him: a middle aged man with a large build, dressed in a formal brown suit with greatcoat over his shoulders and an eternally stern expression grafted onto his face. The very same man that Suzaku had murdered so long ago. "Father…?" he let out in a breath.

"Good to see you have not forgotten about me Suzaku." Genbu Kururugi replied with a sneer. "But then, that would be impossible for you; no man can ever forget the first blood spilled on his hands."

"This is impossible!" Suzaku nearly shouted, not believing what his eyes or other senses were telling him. "I killed you! I killed you seven years ago!"

Genbu laughed at that. "You did, and you would be a fool to presume otherwise." the image continued. "What you see before you is a mere shadow, brought forth to this realm by your doubts and self-hatred. The very judge and tormentor you subconsciously desired for your long list of crimes."

"You have no right to judge me!" Suzaku shouted at the image of his father.

"Oh but I do my son, for it is from your desire to be judged that I am given purpose." Genbu stated as fact.

In the true nature of a specter, Genbu circled the bed Suzaku laid on while continuing to speak. "I have to hand it to you Suzaku, you have truly outdone yourself since my untimely demise…" Suzaku sneered back in response, but that did not stop Genbu's stride. "Abandoning Lelouch and Nunnally in their time of need… Joining the ranks of our enemies and becoming their willing slave… Piloting one of their machines against your own kind, as well as becoming one of their top aces along the way… Turning your back on every single person that has come to care about you…"

The ghost seemed to take noticeable delight at each cringe Suzaku's face took at an accusation. "And now…" Genbu smiled. "…you have even come to betray Lelouch and Nunnally to your masters as well."

"I never betrayed Lelouch! _It was he who betrayed me!_" Suzaku roared at the image of his father, his hands folded into fists and sweat pouring from his head. "He was the one who turned on the system! He was the one who shot and killed Euphie and destroyed everything I cared about!"

"Did he now?" Genbu looked at his son with peculiarity.

_**"YES!"**_ Suzaku let out. "I was there, watching from the _Lancelot_'s monitors as Lelouch shot Euphie! I was at her side when she passed on from her wounds, and a part of me died with her that very moment in time!"

He smashed a fist into his bed cover at the memory of it all. "Lelouch brainwashed her and used her as his pawn, just so he could incite rebellion! And now our people and everything I've fought for, everything I've humiliated myself for, _are ashes because of him!_"

Genbu only watched with apathetic eyes as his son began to breathe heavily from his tirade. "Are you finished, or did you want to add more to your pathetic drivel?"

Suzaku looked back incredulously. "How can you not care about any of that? You were their Prime Minister, their elected leader!"

"You forget, my son…" Genbu smiled fiendishly. "I was the one that originally wanted every Japanese man, woman and child to fight to the end seven years ago, so that the Japanese race may die as warriors rather than live as slaves. If anything, I should be thanking Lelouch for allowing them to do just that!"

"You heartless bastard!" Suzaku hollered, instinctively leaping up to his feet.

"Heartless? Perhaps so…" Genbu said, casually inspecting his nails. "But even if I am, at least I can say I was heartless from the beginning. Unlike you, who possessed a heart at one time but willingly threw it away in your mediocre quest for self-destruction…"

"Have you not heard anything I said!? I lost that part of me when Lelouch used and killed Euphie…!" Suzaku started to rant again.

"Indeed, but it was by your own choice that you abandoned your heart!" Genbu shot back against his son with a singular laugh. "And because of your actions, Lelouch has now been stripped of everything he fought and cared for as well, while Nunnally is on her way to becoming her father's plaything."

Genbu began to circle Suzaku again. "All of these outcomes, Suzaku, and you never questioned why it has come to this…"

"That's because I already know!" Suzaku stated.

"Do you?" Genbu smiled devilishly again. "Have you asked yourself _why_ Lelouch had used Geass on Euphemia when logically the Special Administration Zone fit perfectly into his motives? Have you ever wondered how Lelouch could callously butcher the one sibling he truly cared about besides Nunnally and not feel anything toward it?"

"He did it because for his lust for power!" Suzaku shot out. "That's been Lelouch's motivation from the beginning!"

Genbu laughed at his son's exclamation. "You know that to be untrue Suzaku, as it goes against everything you know about him, the exiled prince that stumbled into our household seven years ago. The boy who, in spite of being abandoned by his country and the world, cared selflessly for his beloved sister and his best friend's well-being, and later on came to care for many others."

The father drew closer to his son, retaining his specter like presence. "Selflessness, empathy, compassion, love, dedication. Those five words make up Lelouch vi Britannia's core being, from the first day you met him all the way to the present. Those are what drove him to do things such as diffuse a car accident he was entirely uninvolved in, to accept a role in the Ashford Academy Student Council to aid his childhood friend in her quest to establish a pleasant environment, to care for his crippled sibling in place of their mother, to look after his best friend who is eternally haunted by the demons of the past. And at the forefront of all of those, to create a place for all peoples to live happily, a motivation that you had adapted for yourself as well but only much later on."

Genbu smirked once more as his son fidgeted uncomfortably from his words. "You knew all of these things, but not once did you ever try to make sense of his actions, not once did you place a semblance of trust in him. Instead, you gave into your rage and selfish hatred and chose to see Lelouch as your enemy just as he was Britannia's; in other words, you ran away again, just as you did seven years ago after killing me and just as you are doing now."

"The Lelouch I knew was nothing more than a mask!" Suzaku countered with as much force as he could create. "A well-played persona of compassion! An efficient monster hiding amidst a facade of humanity! A series of well-rehearsed lines! That's all Lelouch ever...!" Suzaku tried to speak further, but found the words die in his mouth before he could utter them.

"Oh? A mask you say?" Genbu leered at his son. "Tell me, does a mask display needless acts of kindness to the most mundane of people? Does a mask care for a blind and crippled girl for the duration of its life, when the most efficient choice was to simply abandon her? And would a mask save the life of a friend-turned-enemy, by inspiring him to live even by force even when the person in question lost every ounce of resolve to continue on?" That last one made Suzaku look on in shocked realization, much to Genbu's amusement. "A mask indeed, _baka-na _Suzaku. A mask of your own delusion!"

The specter chuckled at his last statement. "At the very least, Euphemia seemed to understand him. Oh yes, she paid for her understanding with her life, but for all of her weaknesses at least she was able to see through the so-called mask to the true face underneath, once again unlike you."

The sinister nature of Genbu's grin only deepened at his next few words. "If she did not, then why did she believe in him even to the end?"

At that, Suzaku's mind recalled the events of the SAZ and the dying image of Euphemia and how even to the end she showed no hatred and only kindness, even to the one that had killed her. Immediately his eyes snapped closed and tears began to draw out as he shivered from the chill he felt from it.

Genbu only laughed at his son's pain. "Yes Suzaku, it was you who betrayed Lelouch at the beginning. Not only that, but you plan to do so again, by using him as a bargaining chip for ascension to the Knights of the Round."

Suzaku's eyes snapped open again and he stared up in horror at his father. "How…did you…?"

"I know everything there is to know about you my son, including your plans to ascend to Knight of One." Genbu looked down dominantly at his child, who only looked back with vehemence. "Truly the epitome of wretchedness, exploiting the only one besides your beloved Princess who understood you and tried to help you, all for false honor and a meaningless purpose no less. Just how far will you fall my son, before you reach the mouths of Satan himself?"

"I don't want to hear it from you!" Suzaku hollered as he drew up and threw his fist out. But before the blow could connect, the image of Genbu disappeared before him and his fist hit nothing but air.

"I'm sorry; did I hit a sore spot Suzaku?" Genbu spoke condescendingly from behind.

"I'll kill you!" Suzaku growled with hatred as he turned around.

"You already have, remember?" Genbu gestured down to his chest, where Suzaku's knife was embedded and blood was stained into his suit. "You cannot kill what is already dead, not any more than you can be rid of your past sins."

"What are you saying?" Suzaku spat.

At that, Genbu drew himself to Suzaku's face, eyes matching each other. From his gaze, Suzaku felt as though he were staring into an abyss, as he saw nothing behind his father's eyes but an unending void. Despite his best attempts not to flinch, he eventually was forced to look away.

"This is but my first visit to you Suzaku…" Genbu spoke out, his voice suddenly becoming even more hollowed. "…as long as you will it, I will return to bring to light every sin that you have committed, every falsehood that you justify to others and yourself, and every hypocritical action you take that only worsens the world. For I am your shadow, and no matter how much you try, I will always be there with you, to bring about the judgment and torment your soul has always wanted."

At that, Genbu began to step backwards, his image fading into the darkness. "_Ja ne aisoku_." he spoke chidingly, before vanishing entirely.

Once more, Suzaku was left in the darkness, but even though he was physically alone, his past demons and several new additions continued to haunt him. All much to his despair.


	3. Word Drama 03

**Word Drama 03**

**Area 11 Government Bureau  
Tokyo Settlement, Area 11 (Japan), Holy Britannian Empire  
September 13, 2017 a.t.b.**

The sounds of gunfire and explosions seemed to grow nearer with each passing second. Even the metal and concrete walls of the government bureau could not keep their sounds out from its insiders, nor the shockwaves from causing those same walls to tremble. Its occupants didn't fare much better either, as Alfred Gaius Darlton observed while he moved through the corridors alongside his brothers Bart Lucius Darlton, Claudio Servius Darlton, David Tiberius Darlton and Edgar Nerva Darlton. All five were still dressed in their pilot suits and all holding their visors in one of their hands, having just come out of the battle outside and just as ready to return to it at a moment's notice. In fact, they would still be out there fighting had it not been for their new orders to return to the Bureau, both to mount the final defense and for reasons that their commander, Gilbert G.P. Guilford, had not let on.

Throughout the hallways he and his brothers walked into and from, Alfred saw great disarray: wounded lining the walls with medics attempting to patch them up, random officials running from end to end to perform whatever duty they were assigned to, papers strung out all across the floor, offices with furniture overturned and pictures fallen down, and above all else a great sense of dread that hung in the air like a puff of smoke. All of these things merged together in Alfred's mind, and his brothers too he imagined, to create a revelation that made his gut clench and his fists tremble: the Britannians were losing this battle, and losing it bad.

Just minutes ago Alfred had been in his _Gloucester_, fighting alongside his brothers against the oncoming Black Knight units, of which there seemed to be no end in number. While their average pilots proved no match for him or the other Glaston Knights, they still kept pushing onward against the Britannian lines, and no matter how many _Burais _were killed off, neither their numbers nor their energy dwindled. The opposite was only too true with his side however, as Britannian forces all throughout the island were losing ground and manpower fast, all divided into their assigned operational zones in Area 11 and all too easily isolated, with the confusion caused by the recent SAZ massacre, which even now no one could explain, and Princess Euphemia's subsequent death only making the situation that much worse. Alfred cursed at all that, and even more so to Zero's brilliance in being able to take advantage of the whole affair; somewhat ironic, considering just days ago he had professed to his brothers that he come to admire the revolutionary's tactics and capacity for long term strategy while fighting the Area 11 occupational forces, all a far cry from their previous adversaries in the Middle East. Now Alfred wanted to skin that masked bastard alive for those exact same things.

And yet, it was only now that Alfred saw exactly how bad things truly were, more so over the fact he and the other Glaston Knights, along with several more surviving Imperial units, had been recalled to the Government Bureau to mount for the final defense. And even more disturbing, the command had been given to them by Guilford, who had taken over the battle; where Princess Cornelia was he had not let known over the radio, neither did he reply to his brother Claudio's inquiry on the whereabouts of their father, General Andreas Darlton. In turn, Guilford also added on that once the five Glastons had returned and dismounted, they were all to meet him in the Viceroy's office before cutting communications and leaving more questions than answers with the brothers.

Needless to say, the sinking feeling in Alfred's stomach only deepened from that order, and no matter how much he tried to prepare himself for the worst, he knew all too well his efforts would be in vain. And knowing his brothers as he did, they were all trying to do the same, only for each and every one of them to come to that same conclusion.

Slowly, the five came to the door leading to the Viceroy's office, and with certain hesitation, Claudio reached out and opened it, allowing the other four to step inside before he did so as well. Immediately the five brothers were greeted with the image of Guilford, also dressed in his pilot suit, standing before the window behind the prominent oak desk, arms crossed behind him, while papers and various objects were littered across the desk itself and the floor. Alfred visibly gulped at the scene, both in regard to Guilford's visage and the knowledge that the resulting debris were caused by an enraged Cornelia, likely some time after the SAZ.

But then, Claudio noticed something else that disturbed him far more. "Guilford, you're here alone..." he started.

Guilford did not move from those words, but the same sinking dread soon took over his brothers, who were already showing expressions of fear. Seeing this, Alfred forced himself to swallow his own fear and asked the question first: "Where's the General?" he stammered, barely composing himself and the desperation behind his eyes. "Where's our father?"

At that, Guilford finally moved, his head visibly dipping lower as he closed his eyes, already regretting what he was about to tell them. Slowly he turned around, his eyes narrowed behind his angular glasses, composing his breath before he delivered the worst news that they would ever hear. "We found the remains of General Darlton's _Gloucester _on the roof of this building." he started, praying that his breath wouldn't hitch. "His body could not be recovered."

Suddenly the world became that much colder to the five, who could only no stand there in collective shock. Out of their number however, Alfred was the only one who could not remain as he was, instead feeling the strength in his legs give out and forcing him to fall to his knees.

_"No..."_ he murmured, eyes clenched shut as tears flowed out like miniature waterfalls. Then letting out a cry of rage and anguish, he reached back and slammed his left fist, the one not holding his visor, into the tiled floor, feeling dull pain as his knuckles smashed their way into the marble surface. His brethren could only look away as they fought themselves to mimic what their youngest had done, all the while their own tears fell.

After a few moments, Claudio would be the first to recover, albeit not as much as he would have wanted. Just as Alfred was the youngest of their lot, he was the oldest, and it was therefore his responsibility to ensure that they maintain their duty, even in the face of all that has happened. As such, he turned back toward Guilford, eyes still glazed from tears, and looked the knight dead on as he asked. "What are our orders, Lord Guilford?"

Guilford nodded, as he also fought his own emotions to retain his stoic image, which he was otherwise a staple of his character. "It won't be long before the Black Knights overrun all of our defenses and make their way here." he began, unconsciously feeling his fist tremble as he went on. "All of our Area based forces have been cut off from Tokyo Settlement, and Prince Schneizel's fleet is too far away to make any difference."

He took a moment to fight back the memories of the latest radio call from his mind's eyes. "As such, we have been ordered to abandon Area 11."

Whatever sorrow remained over their father's death was soon pushed aside as the brothers looked up again in shock. "Abandon...?" Bart murmured, realizing with the rest of his lot what that order meant.

"The _Avalon _will soon make its way here." Guilford stated in a measured tone. "I have been instructed to personally bring Princess Cornelia and all VIPs to her..."

"But what about the others...?" David stammered, once again close to losing his composure. "What about the civilians...?"

Guilford once again closing his eyes was all the answer they needed. As a result, certain anger began to well up among the five. "That's _not _an option...!" Alfred shouted.

Edgar however, managed to keep his own anger in check, at least long enough to follow on that. "Were those orders confirmed...?"

"Yes. I had the radio team verify the message. _Twice_." Guilford explained, his voice beginning to rise. "As I said, Prince Schneizel's fleet is still too far away, and with the Chinese mounting forces in the Sea of Japan, our Asian based forces are cut off. The _Avalon _is the only ship that will be able to make it here before the fall, but obviously she is not large enough to accommodate the entire populace."

"We can't just leave them all behind...!" David stated vehemently.

"We have no choice!" Guilford shouted back, finally allowing the dam to burst. "In less than an hour, Area 11 will cease to exist one way or the other! All we can do is ensure that as many people get out as possible before the worst occurs!"

That silenced the five for the moment, but the disgusts was still present within their eyes, and in his own mind's eye, Guilford could see the image of Darlton holding a similar vehemence in his gaze, were he there to look back at him. But even so, the knight of Cornelia remained stalwart as he continued on. "Listen, I will ensure you five are also given passage onto the _Avalon_. As both knights and as the sons of General Andreas Darlton, you are too invaluable to Britannia's service to die here, and I will be _damned _before I let any random Duke or Earl say otherwise."

"And I suppose the ones outside, who are still _fighting_ so we can stand here and talk about this, are _less _valuable to Britannia's service to be given passage?" Bart stated in turn.

Guilford felt his teeth clench in response, albeit more toward his given orders than toward Bart's statement. "As I said before, we cannot save everyone. In the next few minutes, I will order a final push against the Black Knight forces. That will buy us enough time to evacuate."

"In that case..." Claudio stated, turning toward his brothers to ensure they were all in agreement. When they returned their steeled gazes toward him, confirming his unspoken question, he looked back at Guilford. "...let us be the ones to lead that push."

Now it was Guilford's turn to look disturbed and confounded. "...what did you just say?"

"You heard what I said." Claudio replied with more resolution than one would believe possible. "_We _will lead the final charge."

Guilford was only taken back further, knowing what awaited the brothers would they follow through with that statement. "If you go out there now..." he said with a tremble in his voice. "...you will only be cosigning yourselves to your deaths."

"So be it then." David followed up in turn. "At the very least our deaths will not come cheaply, and it will only guarantee the defense to hold out longer."

"Besides, it's what our father would have done." Edgar replied as well.

"Your father would have wanted you to live!" Guilford stammered out. "Do you think you will be doing General Darlton justice by dying _here_!"

"This isn't about our father, it's about _them _Guilford!" Claudio responded sharply. "You're about to order an entire battalion of Britannia's finest to go out there and sacrifice themselves so that those higher up on the food chain can flock back to the Homeland. You of all people should know how they will feel when that order is given, especially if their own commanders weren't willing to go out there with them!"

Guilford sneered at that thought, knowing exactly what Claudio meant. He did not deny that claim, as he knew all too well the desperation one would hold in the face of certain death; if not for his service to Cornelia, as well as his orders to ensure her safety and those of the other VIPs, he would have been back out there himself to ensure that those below him would not feel left behind. And just as David said, Darlton would have done the same thing, and in that regard Guilford felt disgusted toward himself that _he_ had to be the one to run away while his sons carried out their late father's will.

"We are the Glaston Knights!" Alfred called out with the force of a battle cry. "The sons of Britannia, charged with the defense of our nation, and the destruction of our enemies! We are the soldiers that march forward when others retreat! We are the warriors that destroy in order to preserve! We are the reapers that sew death so that our brethren may live! _We live for the Empire, we die for the Empire!_"

And from that, the _credo _of the Glaston Knights rang out throughout the room like a war trumpet blast, causing the other four brothers to stand just as firm alongside the one who spoke it out, once more reflecting on their own will and dedication to their cause. After Alfred finished, Claudio followed upon his brother's words. "Our father made us recite those words until they were permanently forged into our hearts. All this time we have stood by their meaning, yet it is only such a time as this that we can live up to those words to our greatest extent."

He stepped forward, until he was directly face to face with Guilford. "I do not misunderstand you Guilford. I know that with our father's death, you believe you are carrying his will by ensuring our safety, just as I know that if our father were still alive, he would rather see us brought back to the Homeland than sent back out there. But for that to happen, we would be forced to betray our oaths to Britannia and her people, both our fellow soldiers and the civilians we have been charged to defend."

Claudio stared directly into Guilford's eyes, until it seemed like his gaze would melt through the knight's pupils. "And you know _that_ will never happen."

Again Guilford felt his fist clench, as he grit his teeth and looked down, refusing to let himself cry in front of such a face. Unlike those before him, he knew _exactly_ what awaited the five as well as every other living thing on the islands. He, like every other higher official in Cornelia's staff, had known of the _final solution _that would ensure Area 11 and her sakuradite reserve would never fall into the hands of Britannia's enemies, and for all of this time, Guilford had sworn to himself that he would not see that nightmare unleashed. But now, the order had been given, and Guilford knew that even if the brothers would survive the battle, they would only die in the aftermath. Operation Nero would ensure nothing less.

Yet he knew he could not convince them otherwise; even if he did let them in on one of the most well kept secrets in Area 11, a secret that even now he was under strict orders not to speak of except to those who also knew, they would still be resigned to the battle. As such, Guilford felt as if his insides were being torn apart, the knowledge that he could not protect Darlton's children from suffering the same fate as their father being too much for him to bear, alongside the knowledge that they were about to engage a fight that he, by all rights, should have been in as well.

But even so, he did not forget that his duty was still to Cornelia, and that her leaving the island alive took priority above everything else, even the safety of Darlton's sons. As such, he forced his mind to anchor on that one thought, allowing him to turn back to Claudio and, without losing his composure again, nod in acknowledgement. "If that is your wish." Guilford stated, before giving off the Imperial salute, placing his right fist over his heart. "May you fight well, Glaston Knights!"

Claudio nodded back and saluted as well, alongside the other four. "We always do. Farewell, Lord Guilford." he said, before they exited.

* * *

Mere minutes after their last meeting with Guilford, Alfred found himself back on the cockpit chair of his _Gloucester_, which shifted forward into the cockpit itself while the hatch sealed itself behind him. From there, he began the startup procedure of his machine, and found much to his relief that the previous battle damage had been repaired and that all systems were fully operational. Looking over his ammunition supply, he found that his assault rifle's bullet and grenade cartridges had both been swapped with fully loaded ones, and that his back mounted missile launchers were all carrying their full loads. For all intents and purposes, he was ready for battle, and shifting his head toward the other four blue shouldered _Gloucesters _and deploying the factsphere to scan them, it appeared his brothers' units were just as ready.

One after the other, the five machines gently sped across the hangar to weapons rack, where five familiar golden lances awaited them. Starting with Alfred himself and ending with Bart, each Glaston Knight took hold of a lance, before speeding toward the hangar entryway alongside a nearby group of _Sutherlands_. They continued on until they reached the end of the entryway, where a single closed door divided the insides of the hangar to the outside plaza of the Area 11 Government Bureau. Again one after the other, each knightmare moved into position, perfectly organizing themselves into an attack formation with the five _Gloucesters_ in front and the _Sutherlands_ behind them, all the while the door remained shut and the nearby hangar light remained in the red; once it shifted to green, the door would open and the battle would begin anew for all of them. But for now, they would have to wait, likely until either the _Avalon _arrived or the Black Knights came close enough for them to attack.

At that point, Alfred reached up with a shaking hand a placed the visor back over his head, taking a moment to let his eyes adjust to the ruby colored 'T'. Despite his resolution to certain death, he still could not keep himself from feeling nervous, and though he did his best to keep it from leaking onto his expression, something must have slipped out, because the next thing he saw was Claudio's own visored image appearing at the corner of his monitor. "Nervous Alfred?" he called out.

Alfred chuckled at that. "Guess some things can't be helped." he replied in good humor. "I was really hoping that I would be able to face the prospect of my death calmly, but it looks like that's not going to happen either."

Suddenly, Bart's image appeared on his screen. "Don't feel bad about it, we're all feeling like that now. But look on the bright side; at least you're not shitting your suit like Edgar is."

A very put off Edgar appeared almost instantly. "For your information asshole, I _haven't_ had a bowel movement since this damned rebellion began. And if I did have one, it would have happened a _long _time ago, when Cornelia started barking orders."

David followed up on that one as well. "Heh. That would have been enough to give _anyone _a bowel movement. I've never seen Her Highness so pissed off."

"And we all know why _that _was." Claudio replied, giving an indirect order to drop the subject. At that, the other four brothers, knowing full well what Claudio was hinting at, chose to follow their leader's command and leave it at that.

After a few moments of silence, Alfred decided to speak again, feeling a little more dejected. "I wish dad were here."

The other four nodded. "We all do Alfred." David said in turn. "If it's any consolation, we'll be joining him soon enough."

"Yeah, at least there's that." Bart replied. "In the meantime, he'll just have to watch over us as we kill a few more Elevens. He certainly wouldn't have it any other way."

"Damn straight." Alfred nodded, feeling some of his spirit begin to return. Then another thought occurred to him. "Hey, you guys remember what he had us say before our first deployment?"

Upon that memory, the other four returned the smirk that came across Alfred's face, remembering the excerpt from one of the greatest plays that a certain Bard had put out, one that was based around, ironically enough, victory in the face of certain defeat. At that, Claudio was the first to recite the passage, just as he had been so long ago. _"Once more unto the breach, dear friends!"_ he started, the speakers in Alfred's cockpit doing no justice to the intensity of his tone. _"Once more, or close the wall up with our Britannian dead! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility!"_

Unbeknownst to the brothers, the _Sutherlands_ around them were picking up on their transmission due to the proximity, and all at once, their fellow pilots began to listen with interest as the brothers recited the legendary words of William Shakespeare's _Henry V_, their own spirits being rejuvenated with each word. Bart followed where Claudio left off. _"But when the blast of war blows in our ears, then imitate the action of the tiger! Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage! Then lend the eye a terrible aspect! Let pry through the portage of the head like the brass cannon!"_

David was next down the line. _"Let the brow overwhelm it as fearfully as doth a galled rock overhang and jutty his confounded base, swilled with the wild and wasteful ocean! Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit to his full height!"_

Edgar followed on from there. _"On, on, you noblest Britannians, whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, have in these parts from morn till even fought and sheathed their swords for lack of argument!"_

At long last, it was Alfred's turn, and he performed his own segment with the same fervor as his brothers. _"Dishonor not your mothers, now attest that those whom you called fathers did beget you! Be copy now to men of grosser blood, and teach them how to war! And you, good yeoman, whose limbs were made in Britannia, show us here the mettle of your pasture! Let us swear that you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not!"_

As the last segment came around, it returned to Claudio. _"For there is none of you so mean and base, that hath not noble luster in your eyes! I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, straining upon the start! The game's afoot! Follow your spirit, and upon this charge, cry out to God, Earth and Heaven...!"_

And then all at once, the voices of not only the five Glaston Knights, but those of each and every one of their fellow knights sounded off in a resolute cry of seemingly eternal power and defiance that threatened to shake the very foundations of the government bureau. _"__**ALL HAIL BRITANNIA!"**_

Immediately after those final words rang out, the light flashed green and the hangar door lowered itself, revealing the outside to the gathered knightmares. And with a war cry, Claudio twirled his lance and put his _Gloucester_ in a charge, followed by the collective cries of his brethren and the _Sutherland_ pilots, who also charged into the awaiting battlefield...

* * *

**Nippon Memorial Park  
Naha, Independent State of Okinawa  
January 19, 2019 a.t.b.**

Minute thunder rumbled across the grey and overcast skies as a soft gust of wind blew through the forest, causing tree leaves to rustle and grass to flutter from the expanse. As far as storms went, this one was not the worst Okinawa had encountered; in fact, it was a relatively tranquil storm compared to the usual tropical storms and typhoons that usually graced themselves over the islands. However, it was still enough to obscure the usually bright tropical setting, blocking out the sun with a blanket of clouds and causing the seas to shift and stir. The proverbial calm before the _real_ storm began, as it were.

Despite the storm's presence however, the recently created Nippon Memorial Park remained seemingly undisturbed by its presence. The trees, genetically engineered to grow to their full size in little over a year as well as to stand up to the island's higher climates, remained standing strong even as the wind began to pick up around them. The grasslands and ponds, also created in the recent years, remained just as still, while the local wildlife continued to move about the area; they knew that there was still time before the storm's true power was revealed, and as such were now using whatever opportunity they could before seeking shelter. And there, standing prominently in the middle of the park, a single stone pillar appeared unmovable and unbreakable even against whatever force the storm was threatening to bring onto the land. After all, it was created by those who _survived _the worst cataclysm in modern history as a dedication to those who did not, and compared to the onslaught brought upon by the Devastation, a little thunder and rain was hardly a threat to it or those who built it.

For most of the day the park and the stone pillar remained without visitation. This in itself was a curious event, as the park was a frequently traversed area due to its serving as the collective gravestone for the one hundred million plus that died just under two years ago. Those who survived the Devastation and those who had observed it from the island were both known to come here, to remember as well as to forget, but for the today it seemed as though the storm would be the only visitor to this land. At least, until the mid-afternoon, when _he_ came.

From the grey sky above, a single bird, one easily identified as a peregrine falcon, swooped down and made a perfect landing onto the top of the pillar, its talons gripping the stone as they would prey. Once it steadied itself, the magnificent avian raised itself up and folded its wings back, before looking toward a certain direction of the forest and letting out a loud, ear piercing cry that threatened to shatter the tranquility of the setting. Just as that cry was made, a single silhouette, one with the stature of a man, appeared from the direction that the falcon's cry echoed toward.

Walking in a steady stride, the figure moved through the forest with the near presence of a ghost. The black and silver outlined uniform that he wore moved with his every step, from the perfectly polished black boots which dug into the dirt and grass to the _kama_ that stretched from the waist down to the feet, gently whipping against both the wind and the stride. A cast silver _tomoe _emblem was held over his left breast, which indicated him a member of his faction's Knightmare Corps, while the black, duel silver line bearing epaulettes on his shoulders displayed his rank as a Captain. Furthermore, the black beret that he wore over his longer-than-average blonde hair, which itself bared a familiar silver "winged sword" sigil at its base, also indicated him as a member of a specialized unit, one whose name once lived in infamy.

All of these details taken it, it was obvious that this man was a soldier, yet in spite of how striking he looked in his black and silver garb, it seemed as though the uniform was foreign to him. The sigil on his beret especially seemed like the last thing anyone would have believed him to wear, especially when not too long ago he bore a certain golden cross as his own standard. Yet here he was, looking just as ready to march to war as he would have in the maroon uniform he once wore.

As he drew closer to the shrine, the falcon, which he had named Andreas after his late father, let out another cry, and then took off again. A short flight later, it settled upon the branch of a nearby tree, where it would watch its master, the man who had rescued it from the destruction not too long ago, confront his own ghosts.

After a few more steps, Alfred G. Darlton came to a full stop in front of the shrine, where his eyes looked across the memorial plaque at the pillar's base. He was still not fully able to read Japanese characters, but he knew the plaque spoke of the pillar's dedication to those who had died on September 13, 2017 a.t.b. And as he continued to gaze at the ornate hiragana characters, he could feel the memories of that exact day raise up in his mind.

He remembered the battle as it were only yesterday, from the beginning to the violent and destructive end. He remembered the sights and sounds of the bullets and explosions, the death cries ringing out over his radio, and the overwhelming feeling of adrenaline moving throughout his body as he fought the losing battle. But chief among those memories, he remembered the last moments of each and every one of his brothers, as well as the feelings of helplessness that came after one fell.

He could see Bart's _Gloucester_ get cornered by three _Burais_ before being cut down by the triple blaze of their machine guns, the first of his brothers to fall in the battle. He could remember David's unit getting impaled by the chainsword of one of the _Gekkas_, the revolving blade moving past the Yggdrasil drive and into the cockpit block, before its wielder ripped it out and let the stricken _Gloucester_ explode. He could see another _Gekka_ leap out and tackle Edgar's unit into a nearby wall, where it then executed diagonal cut across the magenta colored knightmare's torso, before letting loose its arm mounted autocannon into the wound and then jumping back before it exploded. And then, at last, he could see Claudio, who had been fighting the black armored, "red haired" _Gekka_ that belonged to Kyoshiro Tohdoh, finally fall as the enemy commander systematically dissembled his own _Gloucester_, also letting it explode.

Alfred felt both his gut and his fists tighten at the memories, but for whatever hatred he would have gained over watching his four brothers die one after the other, that hatred had been cancelled out by the earthquake and the explosions that sounded as the sakuradite deposits were detonated. That memory was soon followed by the memory of his own awakening, along with the feeling of multiple hands lifting him out of the remains of his own _Gloucester _while his eyes were greeting by a darkened sky and surrounding ruin. And following that memory was yet another memory of him, now fully alert, wading through the left behind destruction in a desperate search for other survivors, all the while despair threatened to overwhelm and destroy him when the Devastation had failed to.

For almost two years he had lived with those memories, and for that same amount of time he struggled with the realization that everything he had fought for and believed in had been a lie. His own nation had betrayed him, turning upon every principle that it had espoused into him just to keep the resources of the Japanese isles out of the hands of its enemies. The innocents that Alfred had been tasked to serving and protecting had been unanimously purged, all the while the few who held titles and positions were allowed to flee back to the Homeland and escape the destruction. And above all else, the sacrifice of his father and his brothers was rendered in vain, as the Britannia that they had all served to their greatest extent was revealed to be an illusion, a mere cover for a less than honorable regime.

It was for all of those things that Alfred, alongside many other fellow surviving Britannians, had chosen to join the Black Knights after the organization had been brought back into existence. That itself had been a difficult struggle, as there were still those who still blamed survivors like him for the Devastation, but again here he was now, dressed in the new black and silver attire of his onetime enemies and preparing to go to war against his equally onetime home country.

But before he could proceed however, he needed to come here, at least one more time. He needed to speak to his family once again, even if it was beyond the grave. Already Alfred could see them, the hulking image of his father and the somewhat smaller and leaner images of his brothers, looking back at him, watching him. But even so, he could not picture their expressions and reactions at the sight of his standing before them in an "enemy" uniform. Yet despite that, Alfred chose to speak anyway.

"We live for the Empire. We die for the Empire." Alfred murmured, as he kept his eyes on the shrine. "I can still remember how I cried out those words to Guilford, back before the battle. I remember how I, how _we all_, felt toward serving Britannia to the end."

Alfred let out a small, sad smile at that. "I guess I could say you were the lucky ones. Each and every one of you followed that creed to the end, before the Devastation erupted and everything changed. You all got to die believing that you were serving a greater purpose than yourselves, while I had to live on to realize it was all a lie."

His smile quickly faded. "That's the reason why I'm here now, before you in this uniform." he continued hesitantly. "I lived past that battle to learn that Britannia really is everything Zero claimed it to be: an evil empire that will destroy humanity instead of saving it. Yes, there is some good in it; you all, as well as Guilford, Cornelia and Euphemia were evidence of that alone, but that wasn't enough to prevent the Devastation."

At that, his eyes closed as he felt tears threaten to leave them. "There is no clearer evil than a nation that would so easily sacrifice its own, whether be it soldier or civilian, and no matter how many good people are in it, it will only remain evil. And in your own words father, when a man is confronted by evil, he is given a choice: either allow it to continue, or end it where it stands."

He opened his eyes again, which were now glistened with moisture. "Yes... you _really_ are the lucky ones." he continued, reaching up and grasping the left side of his uniform. "Because you're not alive to feel the pain I'm feeling now as I'm about to turn on everything I was brought up to believe. Sure, I could say that Britannia betrayed me, no, betrayed _us_ first, but that doesn't make my decision any easier, not when I spent my entire life in its service."

Hesitantly, he took a step closer to the pillar. "No matter how you look at it, I'm about to commit the ultimate treason, against my Emperor and my country, against my oath as a Glaston Knight and against your memories. The last son of Andreas Darlton will live on as a traitor to everything his father and family stood for, as well as forever regretting his service to Britannia and his aid toward its subjugations."

Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. "But in the end, it's not about me, nor is it about you." he stated. "It's about those we failed to serve and protect, and those who still need service and protection from evil. It was for them that we acted as Glaston Knights, it is for them that I am willing to live a traitor's life in the company of my former enemies, and it is for them that I am willing to endure whatever disgust or ill will you have toward me from beyond as I go against our principles."

Finally, the tears began to flow out. "If nothing else, I want you to know that." he said, stiffening himself to military attention. "And that no matter what happens, I will always be a Darlton. Forever proud and forever with honor."

With that declaration, he raised his right hand up and saluted, just as rain began to fall from above. And then, after several moments of remaining as such, Darlton finally tilted his head down and allowed himself to cry.


	4. Word Drama 04

**Word Drama 04**

**Imperial Palace  
Pendragon, Holy Britannian Empire  
October 20th, 2017 a.t.b.**

It had been seven years since Milly Ashford had set foot in Britannia. Seven years since her family had been stripped of their nobility and their holdings and then exiled to the far east over their association to the late Empress Marianne. And now there she was, recently returned to her homeland, after so many years wondering if she would ever see it again. Many a night had she dreamed of simply setting foot on Britannian soil once more, breathing the air around her family's land, the Duchy of New York, and along with all of it reuniting all the friends that she had left behind. And now, seven years later, it seemed as though that wish had finally come true.

Unfortunately however, it was _far_ from the momentous occasion she had originally pictured. _Very far._

She now stood in the middle of the Imperial throne room, alongside the rest of Ashford Academy's surviving student body, all of whom were dressed in their school uniforms as she had personally requested of them. The atmosphere was heavy, as the students around her fought to contain their fear; the Emperor himself had summoned them, or so the Letters Patent had claimed, and after the events of last September, many couldn't help but wonder if they had been brought to their own executions. It was nothing short of a miracle for many of them to stand there at all, much more keep their emotions in check, all the while they waited for His Imperial Majesty to appear and determine their fates.

The same could not be said for Milly however. Instead of quaking in her uniform like some others, she stood ramrod straight up, her hands at her sides and folded into fists. Instead of virtual tears running down her cheeks, her eyes were cold and hardened, appearing expressionless on the surface yet speaking of certain rage underneath them. And instead of the sounds of muffling or sobs escaping from her mouth, all that could be heard from her was breathing, near silent and completely controlled, not unlike that of a sleeping dragon. She was, for all intents and purposes, _quite_ ready for the coming event, as well as entirely resigned to whatever Fate held for her.

Beside her, Rivalz and Shirley stood by her as always. They looked far less resolute than she had, with Rivalz looking far more nervous than he usually did and Shirley looking as though she were going to break down and cry then and there; after all, she was among those who had lost family, specifically her mother, in the events beforehand. But Milly knew better; no matter what would happen in the next few minutes, those two would always be there to stand with her and support her, just as they had upon the Student Council. Their devotion was beyond question, even if their current emotional standing was not.

That said however, it did deeply sadden her that they were the only members of the Student Council present. Lelouch had disappeared hours before the Black Rebellion had taken place, as did Nunnally not long into it; it was generally believed that they had perished during in the chaos of the rebellion, though Milly herself suspected otherwise. Kallen, after revealing herself as a Black Knight, had rejoined the fight not long afterward; like Lelouch and Nunnally, she too was believed to have been killed, whether in battle or by the sakuradite detonations. Nina, after her failure to detonate her impromptu atomic bomb, had been incarcerated somewhere aboard the _Avalon_ and not seen since; Milly already had some ideas on what had happened to her, but she kept them to herself for the time being.

And as for Suzaku, the less said, the better. Milly felt her fury bubble under the surface just thinking about _him_.

"Presenting His Imperial Majesty!" announced one of the Imperial Guardsman, breaking Milly out of her thoughts.

Upon that call, the entire hall fell into a dreading silence as Emperor Charles entered. This was the first time that anyone in the Ashford student body, save for Milly of course, had seen the 98th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire in person; thus they were all immediately quelled by the presence of the most powerful man in the Empire, all the while keeping mind that their fates could and would be determined by this one man. It didn't help that he had not entered the throne room alone; beside him came Suzaku, dressed in the uniform of the Knights of the Round and displaying the blue cloak of the Knight of Seven. If any among the gathered felt relief at the former student's presence, it ended up being short lived when cast against the cold, emotionless gaze Suzaku gave out.

Even so, Milly remained undeterred. In fact, if anyone had been paying attention to her, they would have noticed that the intensity behind her own eyes had just tripled upon seeing the Emperor and his new seventh knight.

As soon as the Emperor took his seat, with Suzaku coming to his own place beside the throne, the same guard spoke out again. "Milly Ashford, approach the throne!" he ordered.

Silently, Milly followed the order, moving out from her place amongst the other students toward the center walkway, ignoring the fearful expressions of Rivalz and Shirley as she did so. Not unlike the convicted being presented at her own sentencing, she moved down the walkway, until she was just before the Emperor, who looked down upon her like a righteous judge. It didn't take much for her to remember that this was the same man who had, upon the death of Empress Marianne, stripped her family of its holdings, forcing them to seek exile in the Far East. Just as he was the same man who had cast out Lelouch and his sister over an childish but warranted outburst, one made by a nine year old boy still mourning his mother's demise.

For his part, Charles narrowed his eyes at the former aristocrat, the last direct scion of the once great House of Ashford. Despite the intensity that he cast down upon the granddaughter of Reuben Ashford, the former Duke of New York, his expression was otherwise unreadable; he neither projected displeasure nor acceptance toward the young woman, yet at the same time his gaze was not one of indifference. The best anyone could claim was that he showed certain interest in Milly, yet not the kind one would expect from His Majesty; as opposed to the predatory fixation of a beast stalking wounded prey, which the Emperor often projected, he instead looked upon the woman with simple curiosity, almost as if he did not know what to expect from the newcomer (as impossible as it would have sounded). Obviously this only made everyone else all the more uncomfortable.

From there, the audience waited with baited breath. Whatever the His Majesty's intentions were, they would soon be finalized in the next few moments.

"…Kneel." came the Emperor's command.

Despite the command, Milly remained standing. His eyes narrowing further, the Emperor repeated his command. "I said kneel."

Milly then spoke up for the first time. _"...No."_

All of a sudden a bleak chill enveloped the throne room, as the sound of minute gasps emanated from the gathered; even Suzaku could not keep his eyes from widening at the former student council president's defiance. Responding automatically, the two flanking Imperial Guardsmen moved down and crossed their rifles in front of Milly; however, they withdrew as soon as their liege held up his hand, indirectly stating there was no need for that.

Now _especially_ curious, yet somehow not showing any displeasure, the Emperor asked the apparent question. "Why?"

It was only then that Milly looked up to meet the Emperor's gaze, to which she no longer withheld her fury. For all of her bubbly eccentricity, Milly Ashford was a force to be reckoned with now. "One only kneels before his or her rightful ruler." she replied, fury echoing from her voice as well; even the Imperial Guardsmen couldn't help but feel shaken at its tremor. "I do _not_ recognize you as _mine_, nor of those behind me."

"Milly, don't do this." Suzaku calmly pleaded, trying to save his friend before she sealed her fate. "Nothing will be gained from..."

_"Shut up Suzaku!"_ Milly bellowed with such force that it broke through Suzaku's temperance, causing him to visibly recoil in shock. The withering glare that she cast over the Knight of Seven would have forced a lesser man to his own knees. _"If you were as righteous as you pretend to be, you would be down here in my place!"_

She then looked back at the Emperor. Once more, he kept his watch over her, projecting no forward emotion to her defiance, though at the same time he was not indifferent. She took that as an invitation to continue.

_"Your Majesty..."_ she managed to say, resisting the urge to spit the title out like a poison. "...seven years ago you stripped my family, which has served the Throne since the time of Empress Elizabeth I, of its possessions and its honor, all for its association to the late Empress Marianne. By doing so, you forced us to leave the Homeland and venture to an unknown realm to start anew, in the hope of gaining whatever prosperity we could amidst our disgrace. To say those years were difficult would be an understatement, as many sacrifices were made in order to create Ashford Academy and keep it running through the years, especially in the aftermath of the Second Pacific War."

Her gaze grew even more intense. "During that time, I, along with the rest of family, had grown to hate this Empire and its rulership. For the first time in my life, I felt I had come to know what true hatred was, and though my family continued to labor under the belief that we could regain our nobility, I myself wanted absolutely nothing to do with that which had betrayed us and cast us out. As far as I was concerned, there could be no possible redemption for Britannia, and only out of obligation to my family did I make any effort in attempting to reclaim our peerage." again she looked to see if any emotion had entered the Emperor's eyes, and again she saw nothing. "Having said that, for over seven years of my life, I had thought that would be the extension of my hatred. I believed I could not possibly come to hate you and your nation any more than I already had, just as I also believed that Britannia could not possibly do any more to earn my enmity than it had already done."

She took a breath before coming to the ultimatum. "But now, as I stand here before you, in the wake of all that has occurred..." she said, her voice now hollow. _"...I realize just how wrong I was."_

Now she was visibly trembling. "What you took then pales in comparison to what you took just over a month ago." she snarled, the hate even clearer now. "As much as that land and those titles were worth to my family, they're _nothing_ compared to the loved ones you _stole_ from these children before you!" she gestured out to the other students behind her. _"Just how much of their families did you take from them!? How many fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters did you slaughter, all because you were about to lose one of your own possessions!?"_

Her eyes narrowed further as her voice continually grew louder and louder. _"How do you justify their deaths to them!?" _she was now shouting, such that her voice echoed around the throne room. _"Are you going to claim 'Britannia Marches On' just like you did at Prince Clovis' funeral!? Or that they deserved death, because they were too weak to survive several thousand kilometers of exploding sakuradite!? Or that they could not survive because they were too inherently 'different'!?"_ she then roared. _"Tell me, Your Majesty!"_

"That's enough Milly!" Suzaku shouted, just as the guards once more moved to seize Milly. Yet again the Emperor's hand raised, holding them back as well as silencing the Knight of Seven, who could only look back at the Emperor in surprise.

At that point, Milly could almost hear the voices behind her; the pleas of her students telling her to stop there, that she did not need to say any more. She could almost see the tears in Shirley's face as she tried to held it in, while Rivalz, his own feelings for her more apparent than ever, looked ready to charge in and shield her from the guards. Even Suzaku, despite all of his actions up to that point, looked torn between staying where he was or leaping down to his friend and protecting her from what would inevitably occur. Essentially, they all knew that if Milly said any more, she would no doubt be condemned to death; it was only a miracle that the Emperor had not ordered her summary execution at that time, for what reasons even she could not fathom.

But even so, they all overlooked one fact: Milly had nothing to lose. She was the last Ashford now, though it was not widely known; her grandfather had led the entire family to Japan in his quest to establish a new foothold there, and thus they had all been present for Operation Nero. With them, the only home she had known for the last seven years, as well as whatever possessions she had gained for herself, were gone. All she had left were those behind her, the select few students the _Avalon_ had evacuated before the fire erupted, and though she knew they wanted her to live, she would rather die than let the Emperor go on without seeing firsthand their rage and loss. If her life was the price to pay for calling out the tyrant before her, then so be it.

It was only then that, much to her own dark amusement, she _finally_ understood why Lelouch had done what he had done seven years ago, as well as how he had felt during.

That realization, as well as the Emperor's silence, allowed her to calm herself somewhat, though the rage still remained in her eyes. She continued. "As the Student Council President of Ashford Academy, as well as the granddaughter of its head administrator, I am both the representative and benefactor of these students; it was...it _is_ my role to ensure their happiness and prosperity, just as it is _your_ role to ensure the prosperity of your empire." she explained, inwardly wondering if Emperor Charles saw himself in that manner. "Thus, their loss, their pain, their sadness... They all fall upon myself to shoulder and bring before you, regardless of what the consequences may be...!"

A collective dread erupted from the students as they realized Milly was about to seal her fate. "For longer than I can remember, I have hated you and Britannia for myself." she went on. "Now..._Now_, I hate you _even more_, but this time I do so for _them_. Such that, I swear upon the Ashford name itself..." she seethed, her voice now low but still completely enraged. _"...I will _never_ forgive you!"_

Her hand quickly balled back into a fist_. "For them, I would set out to do what so many had attempted before me...!"_ she went on, continuing to ignore the silent please behind._ "What the Romans, the Normans and the Spanish had failed to do...!"_ she emphasized._ "What Napoleon Bonaparte and his European Union had nearly done...!"_ she could almost hear Shirley and Rivalz cry for her to stop._ "What you feared Zero and the Black Knights would succeed in doing...!"_

Even then, her eyes never flinched from the Emperor's. _"I would...!"_ she let out, before letting out the ultimate declaration. _**"I WOULD DESTROY BRITANNIA!" **_

And so it was done. The words conveyed, the finality established and the silence ever deafening. Everyone knew what was going to happen next, much to their collective horror, as no man or woman could state such words before the most powerful man in the world and expect to be let off without retribution. Just as they also knew nothing on Earth or Heaven could save Milly Ashford from her impending fate now.

Once again however, Milly did not care. In fact, she took some inner solace in the idea that she would be reunited with her family soon. In such case, she only had two regrets: that she would be leaving those behind her to fend for themselves, and that she would never be able to respond to Rivalz's feelings for her. The latter especially stung her on the inside, as out of all the men she had known in her life (including Lelouch), he had been the only who had remained beside her throughout it all, such that his love for her was not only completely clear, but also beyond doubt. Even so, it was still something that she could accept along her trip to the afterlife.

_I'm sorry..._ she thought, her mind hold a firm image of him behind her, still looking ready to charge the stage the moment the order was given.

However, the order never came, and several minutes of silence passed as a result. And then, at long last, the answer that all had been waiting on came in a completely unexpected form: laughter. With great force, the Emperor let out a laugh, one that began as a slight chuckle, but quickly built up into a roaring fit of jovialness.

Needless to say, a renewed form of astonishment embraced the room's occupants. Milly, who had just resigned herself to her fate, found herself completely unbelieving of what she was seeing before her, while Suzaku, still standing beside the throne, was completely aghast at his liege's response. Even the Imperial Guardsman were entirely unsure of what to make of His Majesty's sudden change in temperament.

And then, the Emperor finally spoke. "Well said." he exclaimed. "Well said, Milly Ashford."

Milly could only look on in shock, a response failing to form in her mouth. But that didn't matter, as the Emperor continued to speak. "Your power and will are completely undeniable, as well as a testament to your House. For however long Britannia has existed, no man, _nor woman_, has ever dared to speak such open words of defiance before its Emperor." he then smiled down upon her. "I can see why my son is so fond of you."

"Your son...?" Milly was finally able to mutter, still taken completely back. "...Lelouch?"

"Now..." Charles said as he got up from his throne, cape billowing as he did. "This part usually requires one to kneel..." he continued as he walked over to Milly, until he was directly overlooking her. "...but in recognition of your spirit, I will allow you to stand."

And so, before Milly could fathom what was going on, the Emperor proclaimed to the still unbelieving assembly. _"I, Charles zi Britannia, by the Grace of God of the Holy Britannian Empire, Sovereign Head of the Dominion, Defender of the Faith, to all Lords Spiritual and Temporal and all my subjects. Whatsoever to whom these presents shall come greeting, know that I do advance and create Milly Ashford the style, dignity, title and honor of Duchess of New York, and see to it that all titles, peerage and holdings previously held by the House of Ashford, past and present, be returned to her ownership."_

A collective gasp rose from the assembled, as Charles again smiled down toward Milly. "I give back to you all that was lost seven years ago, Duchess Ashford."

Milly could only remain aghast. What had just happened? Had she not spoke out against the Emperor, and all but proclaimed him a monster? Had she not declared her intention to destroy Britannia if she held power? And above all else, had she not resigned herself to die?

All at once, a sickening feeling akin to just being spat on came over her. For seven years, her family had dreamed of reclaiming their former dynasty, even going so far as to arrange a political marriage between her and Lloyd Asplund, the current Earl of Nevada, in order to gain some standing. Yet in all that time, they had made no progress; straight to the end that dream had been out of reach, with her family passing on with the rest of Area 11 as commoners. And now, in light of their collective pyre, alongside those whom Milly had just spoken of, did the Emperor _finally_ deign to return to the Ashford family's honor.

Thus, she felt her rage return to her. "If you're trying to buy back my loyalty..." she started to seethe.

The Emperor was completely unfazed by that. "Your loyalty means nothing."

Again uncertainty crept upon Milly, though she kept her front. "Then why?"

"Why? That is not something you need to know." Charles repeated as he returned to his throne. He then gave off a dominating smirk. "All that matters is that I have returned what is rightfully yours Milly Ashford. Your titles, your land, your honor, all yours once again." that smirk grew even bolder. _"You may do with them as you wish."_

A crack soon appeared in Milly's mask, sensing there was some kind of underlying message there. "I don't understand..."

"You do not need to. Just accept what has been given to you." Charles said, as Suzaku took a step closer to the throne, the Knight of Seven's face once more impassive. "In return however..."

Suddenly, Milly and the others could only watch as the Emperor's eyes flashed red, a pair of bird shaped sigils appearing upon them. _"...there is a price."_

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Acknowledgments go to Cal reflector, whose work _Lelouch of Britannia_ (specifically the chapter "Homecoming") provided inspiration for this Drama. I also borrowed Charles' declaration from that chapter, as one can probably tell; I'm just too unoriginal to come up with my own stuff I guess.


	5. Word Drama 05

**Word Drama 05**

**Location Unknown  
November 7th, 2017 a.t.b.**

"You have done well, Kururugi." the Emperor complimented as he continued to walk down the mysteriously fogged corridor, the newly ascended Knight of Seven right beside. "In spite of not being a true Britannian, your service to the Empire and to my will has proven quite invaluable, and your dedication well documented. I cannot say the same for many in my army, even those of pure blood."

"Those words humble me, Your Majesty." Suzaku replied as he made sure to stay close to the Emperor, his blue cloak wavering majestically as he walked. "I only hope that my continued allegiance will benefit you and Britannia."

"Indeed." the Emperor replied, nodding as he went. "Rest assured your skills will be necessary for the future, when Britannia settles its score with the EU and the Chinese Federation. But that is for another time…"

That caused several ideas to appear in Suzaku's mind, but he verbalized none of them as it was not his place to do so. Instead, he kept his eyes focused straight forward, one peering down the path they were walking and the other toward the Emperor's black cloak, as if he were waiting for his liege to break his stride and do something unexpected. After all it was certainly in his power to do so.

_Never forget that this is the man who exiled Lelouch and Nunnally over a mere outburst…_ Suzaku reminded himself as he continued his trek, feeling his stomach boil at that memory.

Though he had not been a Knight of the Round for long, Suzaku had managed to settle in to his new position quite well. As Britannia was not currently at war, he spent most of his days giving lectures at West Point about knightmare frame piloting and hand-to-hand combat, but at times he would be summoned before the Emperor for a special assignment. Being on the call list of the most powerful man in the world was the only thing Suzaku still hadn't gotten used to by now, and he had yet to gain some form of understanding about the monarch. As far as he could tell, Charles zi Britannia was a man wrapped in mystery surrounded by a layer of enigma and cloaked in a shroud of inexplicability, and even with his keen senses Suzaku was unable to break through any of those. Not that he was ever good at mysteries to begin with.

In his position he wouldn't have minded his inability to figure out the Emperor as much, but it was the way the ruler addressed him that bothered Suzaku the most. Though he never displayed any form of hostility toward the recently made Knight of the Round, Suzaku couldn't help but feel the monarch was looking down on him in some way, as if he only put on an air of pleasantry because Suzaku had proven to be useful to his agenda. It would only make sense, given what he was before and what he had done to gain power and prestige; even his promotion to the Knights of the Round had only been made because Suzaku had "gotten lucky" and not because he had earned standalone merit. And yet at the same time, Suzaku had no evidence to support this feeling, as in spite of being the head of an Empire well known for its unequal treatment of man, the Emperor never held his Japanese birth against him, nor that his father had once been an enemy to the Crown. Instead, he deigned him the same respectful tone he did the other Knights of the Round, for whatever that was worth.

As he thought of that, Suzaku once again partially regretted that he traded in his friendship with Lelouch for personal service to such a man. While he had not forgotten about Lelouch's long list of crimes to him and Japan, much less forgiven any of them, at least Lelouch had been a good friend and had always looked to Suzaku as an equal when he didn't have to. But as Suzaku summarized, what was done was done: Lelouch had chosen his fate, and Suzaku had done the same. There was no going back for either of them.

Breaking his thoughts, the Emperor's baritone voice spoke out once again. "What I am about to show is one of Britannia's greatest secrets, which only my most trusted servants are allowed to know. Not even Schneizel and the other royals are aware of its existence."

Suzaku did his best not to show any peculiar expression, yet still managed to reply to his liege. "I am honored Your Majesty… But, why me?"

The Emperor was just as quick to answer that question. "Because you are among the few that knows…" he then stopped in the midst of the fog, which enveloped around him and Suzaku. "…about Zero's identity and the existence of Geass."

When the fog cleared around them, Suzaku realized that they were no longer standing in the middle of a corridor. Instead, it looked like they were before a temple of some kind, one of striking Greco-Roman design. Surrounding them and this apparent temple was a twilit sky, endless in scope, while above them was an image akin to the planet Jupiter.

"This place…" Suzaku spoke up as he marveled at the scenery. "Is it a shrine?"

"No, it is not." the Emperor replied. "This is… this is a weapon for destroying God."

"A weapon?" Suzaku exclaimed, failing to understand the Emperor's choice of words.

The Emperor then turned to look back at him. "It is called the Sword of Akasha, and it is the most powerful weapon in all of Britannia's arsenal."

Taking in that explanation, Suzaku continued to look around his surroundings. While it all looked like the true sky, something in his gut told him it was not, and the image of Jupiter overhead seemed to support that conclusion. "We're no longer on Earth, are we?"

That earned a small laugh from the Emperor. "No we are not. We are now in the World of C, a collective unconscious of humanity formed out of peoples' minds and memories. It has also been referred to by others as the Sea of Transmigration, The Great Consciousness, and even Heaven or Hell."

"A collective unconsciousness?" Suzaku uttered with some disbelief. "How can such a world exist?"

"It exists only on this metaphysical plane of reality." the Emperor summarized. "Here, the wills and personalities of all forms of life, living and dead, merge together to create this space, transcending all individuality. You could say that this is the purest form of existence itself."

Suzaku contemplated that for a moment, taking in its meaning. Metaphysics had always been more of Lelouch's favorite subject than his, but the way the Emperor described it, he seemed to understand to some degree. This world was basically the subconscious unification of all life that dwelled on Earth, perhaps in the entire universe, and that it existed on a level that surpassed normal understanding. Yet, it was shaped in such a simple form compared to what Suzaku would have thought, and he wondered why this was.

And once more, in the midst of his thoughts, the Emperor spoke. "Kururugi, in honor of your dedication to my service, I have one final gift to bestow upon you."

When the Knight of Seven turned to listen, the Emperor granted him a small, enigmatic smile. "…Would you like to speak to Euphemia one last time?"

* * *

**Author's Notes:** This one's shorter than usual, but I get the feeling nobody's going to mind. ;-)


End file.
